Some weekends change the way you see a city. Last March in Paris was one of them. Not because we did anything extraordinary — simply because we were cycling, all four of us, with the sun and the Seine as our backdrop. And we have Vélab to thank for that.
How we heard about Vélab
It all started, as it so often does, with a Google search. Julie typed into her phone: “bike rental family Paris hotel delivery”. We were in the middle of planning our March weekend, and the thought of dragging the children through the Métro didn’t exactly thrill me. Léa (10) copes well enough, but Nino (7) is capable of turning a two-stop journey into a Shakespearean tragedy.
In the results, Vélab appeared first. A Google listing with 4.9/5. Hundreds of reviews. I started reading: “punctual delivery, not a minute late”, “immaculate bikes, adjusted to the right size”, “the man was lovely, he explained everything to our children”, “we recommended it to the whole family”. The kind of reviews that don’t ring false. You can feel the genuine experience behind them.
Julie put her phone down. “That’s the one.”
We didn’t look any further.
The phone call — five minutes, all sorted
No app. No seventeen-step form. A phone number. I called. He picked up on the second ring.
The conversation lasted five minutes, watch in hand. The man — warm, efficient, clearly used to dealing with families — asked for our hotel address (a decent two-star place near République), the children’s ages and heights, and whether we had helmets. I said no to helmets. He offered children’s helmets included. I said yes, obviously.
He hesitated for a moment about the type of bike for the children. “Seven and ten, you said? For city rides with little ones, I’d actually recommend a cargo tricycle. The younger one can ride up front with you, the elder can either sit at the back or take a separate child’s bike. Less tiring for everyone.”
I hadn’t thought about a cargo tricycle. Julie, listening beside me, said: “Take the tricycle.” We took the tricycle. And two adult bikes.
He called back twenty minutes later to confirm the booking and sent a summary text message. Clean and professional.
The delivery — Saturday 9am sharp outside the hotel
We’d gone to bed telling ourselves we’d see. Honestly, I still had a slight doubt. The promise of “hotel delivery” can hide all sorts of variations: a late arrival, bikes roughly adjusted, a quarter of an hour searching for an Allen key at the bottom of a bag.
At 9:01am, the Vélab van pulled up outside our hotel.
The delivery man — in his forties, smiling, wearing a Tour de France t-shirt — unloaded the bikes one by one, set them on the pavement and began his systematic inspection. Brakes, tyre pressure, saddle height. For the children, he asked Léa to sit down so he could adjust to her exact size. Nino watched him with wide eyes.
“And he’s riding up front with dad on the tricycle?”
“Exactly. Look, there at the front — that’s your seat. You’ll see, it’s like an armchair.”
Nino was sold on the spot. So was I, for that matter.
The delivery man then produced a laminated map of Paris cycling routes and handed it to us. “Which area are you staying in?”
We explained we wanted to see the canal, perhaps the Buttes-Chaumont. He thought for two seconds.
The routes — advice worth its weight in gold
“In the morning, set off early towards the Canal Saint-Martin. The cycle path runs alongside the canal all the way to the Bassin de la Villette — it’s flat, the kids love the locks. Then, if you have the energy, head up to the Buttes-Chaumont before noon. It’s the only slightly hilly part of the day, but the tricycle will handle the inner paths without any trouble. In the afternoon, come back down through the Marais — take the rue de Bretagne for a lunch break, then return along the quays towards Saint-Paul.”
He even had advice for Sunday: “Paris Rive Gauche is perfect for families. From the Bibliothèque François-Mitterrand all the way to the Champ-de-Mars, it’s almost entirely flat, the kids will manage without any problem. And if you finish near the Trocadéro, the view of the Eiffel Tower from the tricycle is well worth it.”
Fifteen minutes in total. He left, and we hopped on our bikes.
The weekend — just as the reviews said
Saturday morning, the Canal Saint-Martin was exactly what we’d hoped for: reflections on the water, plane trees, families like ours. Nino was settled in the front box of the tricycle, feet dangling, eyes scanning the locks. Léa was cycling alongside me, focused, proud to keep pace. Julie brought up the rear, taking photos.
At the Bassin de la Villette, we stopped for twenty minutes to watch the pedalos. Nino was absolutely determined to get on one. We promised for next time.
The Buttes-Chaumont were a delight. The tricycle climbed the paths without effort — the electric motor did the work. We picnicked on the grass with sandwiches bought on the rue de Belleville. Simple, perfect.
In the afternoon, the Marais swallowed us for two hours. We stopped for an ice cream on the rue de Bretagne — tradition demands it — and made our way back leisurely along the quays. The children didn’t complain once. Not once.
In the evening, we returned the bikes at the hotel at 6pm as agreed. Nino fell asleep in the taxi on the way back.
Sunday morning, we hired again for the half-day. Paris Rive Gauche, as recommended. The library, the gardens, the Champ-de-Mars. The Eiffel Tower seen from the handlebars of a tricycle with a 7-year-old saying “it’s so huge” — that’s an image that stays with you.
The honest verdict
Vélab deserves every one of its five stars. Hotel delivery isn’t just a convenient service — it’s what makes the entire weekend run smoothly from the very start. No stress, no logistics, no poorly adjusted bikes. Just the city opening up before you.
If you’re looking to experience Paris as a family in a different way, cycling really is the right answer — and you don’t need to bring your own equipment. A hired cargo tricycle for the weekend is often far smarter than struggling with your own cargo bikes on the train.
We’d recommend Vélab without a second thought. To all the parents who are hesitating: don’t.
— Thomas J.